Greasy Git
by Rynne Lupin
Summary: First of my Snape vignettes. After the events of Oct. 31, 1981, Snape thinks. About life, his own, and the Marauders.


Disclaimer: I do not own anything related to Harry Potter

Summary: After the events of Oct. 31, 1981, Snape thinks. Rather odd

Author's notes: Might be a bit confusing, because it kinda jumps around a bit. And these aren't exactly a lot of happy thoughts, so if you want something happy, you might not want to read this.

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            I don't know what to think anymore.

            Potter's dead.  Both of them.  And so is Pettigrew.  Because Black betrayed them.

            _Black?_  Of all people to become a Death Eater, I never would have thought…I didn't know…so now they're dead.  But then again, so is _he_.  I don't have to spy for Albus anymore…I don't have to betray those I considered my family until just a year ago.  But then, my 'family' was a cruel, sadistic bunch, as easy to turn on themselves as their enemies.

            Family…Potter's is dead now.  The baby.  How could a baby defeat one of the most powerful Dark Lords there ever was…?  Albus isn't saying, but I have a feeling he knows.  He always knows…even when you don't want him to and try to keep it from him, he knows.

            But he didn't know about Black.  Nobody even thought of Black, not even I, and I knew that the bastard was already willing to murder people at the age of sixteen!  But he betrayed Lupin, so why not the Potters and Pettigrew?

            Lupin…I wonder how he feels about all of this.  He's the only one left of their little group, and I can't help thinking he deserves it.  Werewolves are monsters, flesh-eating, bloodthirsty beasts.  Even when he was courteous to me, I knew he was just mocking me, just like the other bastards he called friends.  Monsters in human form, arrogant ones who didn't give a damn for anyone but themselves.

            Except Lily.  I can't call her Evans anymore, and I can't think of her as Potter, no matter who she married.  Albus said she sacrificed herself for that baby of hers…very Gryffindor thing to do, of course.  The Dark Lord didn't want her, he just wanted that baby.  So Lily died in defense of her son.  And Potter died in defense of his wife and child.

            Potter…I hated him.  Self-righteous arrogant Gryffindor that he was, always so convinced that he's _so_ morally superior to all of us nasty little Slytherins…but he saved my life.  From his _friends_…I bet they were angry with him the next day.  Spoiled their fun, he did.  And then they had the gall to say Lupin was the victim!  Lupin, the bloodthirsty monster who I'm sure would have absolutely loved to have torn my throat out!  And Albus sided with them, as he always sided with the Gryffindor twits.

            Albus always sided with the Gryffindors…so I had to find someone who wouldn't hate me because I was Slytherin.  Someone who could give me the recognition I deserved for all of my hard work, while _Black_ and _Potter_ just sat on their lazy arses and _still_ go the highest marks in the class!

            So I found Him.  But he didn't give me anything but pain.  Pain for others, pain for myself…and then he decided he needed to kill the one man I couldn't…the man I owed a blasted life-debt to._  Potter._  _Potter_ did this, and _Potter_ did that, and oh wasn't _Potter _the clever one.  But Potter's dead.  The man I owe a life-debt to is dead.  What am I supposed to do now?

            And it was Black who betrayed Potter.  First Black betrayed his family for his friends, and then he betrays his friends.  Black never cared for anyone who was not himself, though at times…at times it seemed like he cared for Potter.  Cared for Lupin.  But not Pettigrew.  No one cared for Pettigrew.

            And now Pettigrew's dead too.  In a last pathetic attempt to prove he did have courage, I suppose.  He was the one who found Black.  Who threatened Black.  And who got killed for his pains.  He always was a stupid boy.

            But now the Dark Lord's gone.  Potter, Lily, and Pettigrew are dead.  Black's in prison.  Lupin's alone.  But so am I.  Alone, as always.  I'm just the greasy git, and no one cares about greasy gits.  No one cares if a greasy git's parents were always fighting.  No one cares if a greasy git's always being bullied in school.  No one cares if a greasy git's been nearly murdered.  No one cares if a greasy git becomes a Death Eater, and no one cares if he becomes a spy.  Greasy gits are greasy gits, beneath anything but your hatred and contempt.

            No one cares about a greasy git, and he doesn't care about them.  But sometimes he wishes to.


End file.
